Ice Queen
by Catreen Dragonsword
Summary: A girl is Zapped by lightning.
1. Sorrow's Friend: Alagos

I would just like to say that I don't own Lord of the Rings or anything associated to it. I am not making money from this, nor will I ever. Apart from being from my…rather different mind, I don't know where this is headed. I am writing and posting this as I come up with it. I will not add anything more than the story until I feel the need to thank my wonderful reviewers…that is when ANYONE reviews.

Sorrow's Friend

By Catreen Dragonsword

Chapter One: Alagos (Storm of wind)

In the late afternoon sun, Damia contemplated her choices of fights. Fighting on the first day of school was a normal thing for her. There was always a bigger ass on campus to be put in his place. This day, it was the jocks. Five of the biggest jerks in school teaming up to stuff the new freshman in her locker. Damia did not like being thought of as weak or girlish, even though her slender figure, large bust, and long hair did nothing to dispel the rumor. She knocked out two of the jocks before one broke her arm, but she still won. They were now afraid of her, and she was not in her locker. Her right arm hung loosely at her side, broken in two. Just outside of her doctor's office was a familiar spot for her, as she was hurt in fights more often than not and there was a good amount of sun and quiet. She flicked her cast hollowly. Her mother had been notified, and she had been suspended for a week. Damia knew that as soon as she got home she would be yelled at, it was kind of hard to avoid. She combed through her midnight black hair with the fingers of her good hand. Sleep would be good, after this ordeal and her mother was not due to be home for another three hours. Storm clouds gathered on the horizon defiantly time to go. She waved to the receptionist, who had been watching her, and started to walk home. On the way home, Damia remembered what her mother had told her this morning. 

~Flash Back~

_The morning light disturbed Damia's sleep as her mother knocked on the door of her room._

"Damierilithana Killara Sullivan! Time for school!" Gail Sullivan called.

"Kai, mom." came the groggy reply from Damia. She was not a morning person, but she did enjoy afternoons and evenings a lot. Sleepily, she pulled herself from her bed to flop back down again. A few minutes later saw her up and dressed, armed with a backpack and knowledge of sleeping without the teachers noticing. Damia and her mom got into the car.

"Now, Damia, I know that you love to fight. I would like to see you, just this once, try to hold your temper. If you get into one fight today, young lady, I will be forced to give you up for adoption. You know that those State assholes are just itching to jump down my throat, and you give them a perfect reason to. Please, just once, hold your temper." Said Gail

"Kai, mom." Damia replied with as much vigor as she did before.

~End Flash Back~

Damia had lived in a group home once before, when her mother was put in jail for bad credit. She had almost suffocated in rules, although the solitary room (see time out) was rather pleasant. She would never go back, ever. If her mom wanted to place her there, she would just have to run away. The storm clouds darkened as dusk approached. 

Inside the house, Damia ran around grabbing essential items for survival and stuffed them in her school backpack, not bothering to remove the items originally in it. Music, food, warm jacket, pants, hat, scissors, fishing twine, lighter and matches were stuffed on top of notebooks, paper, pencils and pens, rubber gloves for science, and the most important item in her bag...her flute. As an after thought, Damia grabbed a pen and a piece of scrap paper. She started composing a note to her mother.

Dear mom,

I'm very sorry about getting into a fight...OK, so I'm not, but I will never go to another group home. I am going to try to make it on my own, don't worry. I'll be safe as I can, and I love you. I'll be back, just as soon as the state bastards leave.

Good bye,

__

Damierilithana Killara Sullivan

The girl headed out of the house to the park. Climbing up in her favorite tree, she heard the popular kids approaching. Damia settled herself comfortably in the branches, looking down upon them with contempt. 

"Hey!" called one boy as he threw a stone at her. From the way the tree had grown, and the way Damia was sitting, the stone was deflected. She had found this trick along time ago.

"Don't you want to come down and _play_?" he asked, his tone promised violence.

"I hear she got herself expelled again," said one girl, glaring at her when Damia wasn't looking. Damia's eyes were a deep unspoiled navy blue, and could be quite unnerving when she turned them on you. Her black hair flowed around her body like a nimbus of death. Damia snapped her head to look at the girl who had spoken. Heather was her name, torment was her game. Damia gave Heather the dreaded death glare, and the woman on the ground turned away. 

"Yup, for kickin' the asses off the 'wonder boys'." She stated casually.

"The who?" asked another girl, Bethany the Bitch.

"The varsity football team. They'll be out for the rest of the year..."

"Then why are you here? My mom would have locked _me_ in my room till I graduated collage." The Bitch asked.

"Cause. I, happily, am not you, therefor do not have to face your punishment. Second, I am better than some petty lock, no one can keep me inside..."

"I _knew _it! You _were_ locked in your room!"

"Shut up, Bethany the Bitch." was the icy reply from within the leafy encasement. There was quite amount of whispering as she delivered this statement.

"Why, Damia the Demon?" asked Caroline, the Queen to her possé, the Cunt to everyone else.

"Let the bitch defend herself, cunt." Although Damia seemed calm, she was actually pleased about her reputation. The shocked and angry look from the girls below was priceless. On the other hand, it provoked Bobby, Roberto Garcia, and captain of the frosh football team to attempt to climb the tree. Bobby might have been good at running and catching and whatever else football players did, but he simply did not remember how to climb trees. Usually, one climbs with the flow of branches in a spiral pattern; Bobby (who thinks he is so much better than everyone else is) went for a more direct approach. Climbing right up a tree in a straight line is not healthy; the branches are weaker in a line and to far up for a good reach. About three branches up, he fell back down to earth again, causing Damia to laugh uncontrollably.

"Bet you can't beat me on the ground!" he called up to Damia.

"I would come to collect your soul, you spineless wonder, but I don't hit girls unless they attack me first." She said calmly. 

"What?!?!" 

"I called you a weakling, girl, and a coward in one sentence with out letting you know it. But than again, I shouldn't be surprised." 

"Huh?"

"And add an insult to your little bit of intelligence."

"GRRRR, YOU!"

"What about me?" Scare tactics didn't work well on Damia. 

"Come on, guys! We don't need to waist our time on this bit of ROCK! Let's go to the mall." The group walked off. Damia settled back on the tree, cushioning her head on her backpack.

When Gail found out that her daughter had run away, she panicked. The first thing she did was call the cops. They thought Mrs. Sullivan was joking about Damia running away. Many of them had handled the reports filed against the younger Sullivan girl, and had seen how attached to her mother the girl was. In all the reports, Damia was the winner of the fights, but never the aggressor. She lost several times in fifth grade, though. That was when all her friends moved away, and she became the target. Kids like that either brake by high school, bring guns to school, or learn to weather it out like trees. With trees in a storm, they broke under the wind, the wind wasn't strong enough to move it, or it would sway to the command of the storm. Damia was the kind of kid who wouldn't break, but no human has ever risen above their peers. That left bending, and Damia would never conform. She could bend and sway, but fighting was a new thing to nature. After midnight, and still no Damia, the police became worried. They sent out a small force and a dog to help track her down. 

Damia woke to the howling of bloodhounds. 'I thought it took longer to be declared a missing person...' thought Damia, rolling over in half sleep. Then the full impact of what was going on hit her. The dogs were right behind her tree. As lightly as she could, Damia leapt out of the tree and began to run. Thunder sounded as the chase began. Lightning flashed through the sky. Damia began to run over the new gas line pipes that criss-crossed the park. Following the slight indent with her feet, a hole opened up. Her foot was stuck in the ground, and the police were getting closer. Lightning seemed to get closer. A fire followed a brilliant flash of light, and Damia was gone.


	2. Sorrow's Friend: Bragollakh

I'm sorry this is such a short chapter. My computer has gone down, not crashed per say, but will NOT turn on. I had originally written this on the big desk top, but it doesn't connect to the internet. This is what you get three floppy disks, an angry computer, and a LOT of ajustments later. I'm glad you like this, and would appreciate your continued support.

Sorrow's Friend

By Catreen Dragonsword

Chapter Two: Bragollakh (Sudden Flame)

Damia saw sunlight interrupting her sleep. She extended her hearing as far as she could, making as little noise as she could. She still drifted in-between the world of dreams and of the waking, slowly settling herself down to her body one sense at a time. She heard birds, and wind, and trees...Wait trees? The trees were in the other end of the park... Presently, voices reached her ears. Damia didn't send out any more senses, maybe if they thought she was harmless they would leave her alone. 'Fat chance, though.' She thought. 

"Aiya! Mani bui tanya?" Said one of the voices.

"Amin caela n'noa." Came the reply from another. 'What are they on?' Wondered Damia as she thought about what they said. She slid her mind from where ever it had been to her body. The minute she became aware of her skin, she reilized she was hotter than she should be. One of the men leaned over her and attempted to check her pulse at the jugular vein. A shock of pain hit Damia in one long unbroken wave. 

"Ow..."She murmured creshendowing up to a scream.

"Ta kuio! "

"Llh kuio." The man still attempted to place his hand over her heart. A cool, almost icy, wind came with it.

"Sii'! She is scorching!" The second moved in, attempting to take her pulse as well. He felt her heat as he moved his hand through several layers of strange warmth. He placed his hand on her heart and gasped at how hard it was beating.

"There is something wrong with this mortal!"

"Damn Neo-Nazis." She murmured, thinking 'If they can babble, so can I.' Damia could almost feel the eyes growing wider as she spoke.

"It speaks!"

"Thank you, Captain Obvious."

"Who is this Captain Obvious, and why do you think I am he?"

"I subtly said that you overstated the obvious. Sarcasm is a beautiful thing."

"Will you open your eyes?"

"Fine by me, unless you are standing over me waiting to poke them out." Damia slowly opened her eyes, watching for the tool of choice for destroying her sight. When her eyes were fully open, Damia saw two men. One had slightly past shoulder length blond hair held back by two braided strands, a strong face (the kind that can actually pull off the long hair) and deep gray eyes. His companion had the same hair, style and all, but his face was somehow softer, kinder. And his eyes were a soft brown. 

"I don't think that she is a threat...," said the softer of the two. He was the second one to attempt to touch her. The first one looked down on her like she was some kind of animal.

"Lye isto na sana, to my father. That was his final word." He said, as though he could control her. 'Wait.' she thought about this concept before speaking.

"And your father is...King Tharinduil, right?" she said with as much sarcasm as she could muster.

" Lle rangwa amin?"

"

"Where have you been living? Mars? Everyone knows the rudimentary, amin/lle Quel ri/amrun exc. Next thing you're going to tell me is this is Mirkwood."

"But...It is..."

"What is what?" Damia sounded peeved.

"This place, it is called Mirkwood..."

"Oh, yeah...and you are Legolas Greenleaf and I am Lady Galadrial."

"You look nothing like Galadrial."

"And you look nothing like Orlando Bloom!"

"Or...who?"

"Orlando Bloom; the guy who plays Legolas in the Lord of the Rings. Duh!"

The pair whispered frantically in Sindarian.


	3. Sorrow's Friend: Celebnur

Sorrow's Friend

By Catreen Dragonsword

Chapter Three: Celebnur (Silver Flame)

It didn't take them long for 'Legolas' to establish the fact that Damia was some sort of prisoner. The second, kinder one couldn't seem to wrap his mind around the fact that the girl could lay wounded on the leaf covered floor and still seem threatening. Her eyes held an ice that burned deep into his soul as he grabbed rope from his pack. 

"Girl?" He waited for an answer; none came. "Girl, what is your name?" Again no answer. "I can't just keep calling you 'girl', can I?" She sighed.

"Call me..." Her mind kept screaming 'ISHMEL! ISHMEL!' but instead she said "Kat'iana. I'm not going to tell you my real name until I'm sure that you're not going to kill me." Behind the second, 'Legolas' muttered something that sounded suspicecly like 'Clever girl.' but no one could prove it. 

"By the way, what time is it?" She asked the elf. He looked up, shielding his eyes.

"About three hours after noon. Why?" His eyes were curious. Truthfully, Damia wanted to know how long she had been out cold, but realized that Middle-Earth and Earth most likely didn't run on the same time. 

"Because I asked." She didn't like laying on the ground in pain with two strange men standing over her. She sprang to her feet, quickly discovering that she had kept her backpack threw the trip and there were sever burns running down the right side of her back. She used her good left hand to bend the arm to herself. The first thing she noticed was the cast wasn't there, although the pain was. Next were the burns that ran down her shoulder. Upon seeing the burns, she remembered the lightning flash and the weird feeling that she was dying. The last thought she remembered thinking was: I refuse to die here! 

The elf that was with Legolas was a young sword trainer named Fëalhach. He looked at the soft elven rope, thinking that he didn't like tying up young a young lady wondering around Mirkwood alone.

"Look, I'm having a bad day and I would appreciate it if we ALL were a little bit more civil to each other." The girl glared at him. "What does 'Cat Anna' mean, any way?" More glaring. "I know you can speak. Please, answer the question."

"Kat'iana doesn't mean a thing." She said sullenly. Fëalhach approached her with the rope. "There is NO way in God's great green earth you are tying me up, dude!" Damia hissed at him. Fëalhach rushed her and found himself on the ground with a bloody nose.

"Maybe there's a good reason behind my threat, doofus."

"You have not earned the right to brag yet, incompetent nag!" He stood and slowly approached her. She lashed out with her foot, catching him by surprize. Normal girls didn't fight men, especially when they couldn't win.

Legolas stepped in with a quick punch towards her head, but she dodged it and struck him a hefty blow with her bad arm. She growled in pain at the strike, her eyes flashed like the silver flame of lightning.

'I am in my element.' thought Damia as she waved through the men like she was dancing through water. She knew that with her broken arm and severe burns running over her she was at the disadvantage. The men she fought now were trained in these arts, not some grade school punk with something to prove in his own mundane way. Damia was slightly surprized that she was holding her own against these men, but for the most part she was cold. She felt nothing but the will to fight flooding through her veins, heard nothing but her own harsh breathing ringing in her ears, saw nothing but the blue of self-defense.

Legolas and Fëalhach were surprized, too, at the nameless girl's ability to fight. They danced around, looking for an opening in her defense, but no opportunity came. Then Fëalhach saw it. He signaled Legolas to knock the girl unconsious while he attacked behind her. Legolas jumped at chance to burn this girl. When his fist hit the back of her neck he felt, rather than saw her go down. The plan had worked!

Fëalhach tied up the nameless girl with out question. This lady was too dangerous to travel around Mirkwood without some form of supervision. Legolas had been right all along, wanderers are not to be trusted, even the wounded female ones. The men sat down and waited for their captive to wake up, for no one wanted to be caught with her on their back when she woke up.

Four hours later found the elves marching a rather depressed Damia through Mirkwood forest on the way to the palace. She did not open her mouth once, which for Damia, was a first. Never before had she been in such trouble as this. 

'From their fighting style, I would believe they ARE from Middle-Earth!' Ran Damia's thoughts as she was trudged over the soft leaves of the forest of the elves. She closed her eyes against dispair thoughts and realized the only thing she feared was being burned at the stake. 'I don't believe elves do that though...' she mused. Suddenly, the procession stopped and Damia ran into Legolas. Ever the leader, was Legolas, and the second one seemed to be the court lackey. She had a hunch that the one following Legolas could think for himself, unlike most thugs, and thus more deadly.

"We camp here." said the prince of Mirkwood sorely. Apparently Damia had taken her toll on the aristocrat, for he had been mumbling all four hours about how he was nearly beaten by a girl.

"Oh, how I'll be laughed at! The prince of Mirkwood, beaten by a lowly peasant girl!" He moaned to the tree tops.

"Shut up, will you! That whining is SO obnoxious!" complained Damia finally.

"Shut up? What means this 'shut up'?" asked the second elf, all in curiosity.

"The rude, 'peasant', way of saying 'be quiet'." Damia explained with as much patience as she could muster.

"I've never heard that expression before in my life, and I've been around peasants for a long time." the poor confused elf stated.

"Let's just say that I'm not from around here." 

"I guessed that when I saw you were not an elf."

"Did you notice that I'm dressed a little funny to be from Middle-Earth?" The swordsman nodded, "That is because I'm NOT from Middle-Earth, dipstick!" The elf gave her a strong look of disbelief. "Do you have any other explanation as to WHY I suddenly appear in your forest in blue jeans and a torn up T-shirt and a backpack made of the strangest cloth you will ever see and speak in a manner in which you've never heard?" When Damia got no answer she added, "Hmmmmmm?" 

In this instant Legolas finished rummaging in his pack, and tossed the girl a lebombas wafer. He sat, as if waiting for her to make the first move. She sat down and stared into his eyes with that unnerving cold and smiled when a faint shiver ran down his back. He didn't eat yet, though. Fëalhach grabbed a wafer from his own pack and took a big bite. Damia and Legolas sat starring at each other. Finally, hunger broke through Damia's contest. She reached for the food, but found that her good arm was still attached to her broken one, sending pain up her arms in waves. 

"Look at that," whispered Legolas to his companion. "She's trying to make us believe that she is wounded."

"Legolas, dear friend?" Questioned Fëalhach. "Do you remember the burns that run over her shoulder? This hazard is wounded."

"Ai, so she is." Legolas answered sullenly.

"Let us put this quarrel behind us!" Exclaimed Damia with her mouth full of food, ruining the solemnity of the moment. Fëalhach laughed at the girl's antics, knowing full well that she acted on purpose. The three soon fell asleep.

Dawn's watery rays fell on Damia's sleeping figure. She was dead to the world until noon, when hunger or nature plucked her from her sweet repose. Her face was peaceful, which was shocking in itself. The fact that she had slept on the ground with bugs and dirt with a lumpy backpack for a pillow was unheard of for any teenage girl, and that this one did so peacefully AND could nearly beat the pants off anyone she met made her one of the strange girl she was. 

During the night, a small group of fighting elves joined Legolas and Fëalhach. Unfortunately, so did a band of fighting Uruk-Hi. An hour or so before dawn, the orc half breeds attacked. Needless to say, all were amazed at the un-named one's ability to sleep. After a long while, the Uruk-Hi decided that the girl would make a lovely breakfast and kidnapped her. They had no idea what they were bargaining for.

The sound of a knife being sharpened fell on Damia's deaf ears, but that one small sound dragged her from the realms of the dead, or where ever she went to dream, and into a new mess. 'Well-p,' she thought, 'This just got more interesting.' Her eyes fell on the largest Uruk-Hi.

"HEY, YOU!" She called to him, even though she had just woken up. "ARE YOU AN ORC?" She asked. Damia had a feeling from the glares she was getting that these were the 'fighting Uruk- Hi'. 

"NO," the thing finally grunted, after regarding her with a critiquing eye. "Orcs are less foul." The thing snorted. "Besides, orcs don't have our fashion sense. After all, green so doesn't go with yellow." 

Damia had a sense of serenity. 'This is a dream... He sounds like Caroline.' She sighed, after all dreams can't hurt you.

"Now, would you rather be made into a meat pie, or a fried steak?" asked the nasty freak in front of her. He breathed into her face and she knew she was awake. Nothing in a dream could EVER smell as foul as that.

"Neither, thank you..." She said, her old sarcasm coming back, "I'd rather be chicken cordon bleu, with a fine sherry." Her eyes were as cold as they had ever been, burning holes into the monstrosities face.

"But those don't go together!" Exclaimed the indignant chieftain. One of the other Urk-Hi stepped forward to speak, when suddenly an arrow appeared in his throat. 

"ELVES!!!!" The Urk-Hi screamed, pointing to the trees.

"ORCS!!!" Shouted Damia pointing at the Urk-Hi.

"WE'RE NOT ORCS!!!!" Exclaimed the orcs...I mean Urk-Hi. Soon Damia and the head Urk were in a shouting match, much to the amusement of the elves in the trees. Finally the Urk-Hi chief drew his sword and charged the girl.

Fëalhach, who had been watching the girl in amusement between shooting a volley of arrows, saw now her peril. It was obvious she was an enemy of the foul things of Middle Earth, and therefore a friend of the elves, and now she needed help. He charged from his leafy protection to save a girl who might die, most elves thought him a fool anyways. Just before the Urk-Hi blade made contact with either of them, two things happened. One, Fëalhach touched Damia, and two, a bolt of lightning hit the pair in mid battle. 

The battle stopped for a sick, panic-filled moment, when the bolt struck. The Urk-Hi and elves alike looked to see what happened, and were sickened by what they saw. The chief of the Urk-Hi was dead, scorched upon the ground like a rag doll tossed into a fire. Fëalhach and the prisoner girl were gone, probably just cinders by now. Legolas was the first to become composed enough to give clear directions. He ordered the archers to keep firing at the Urk-Hi, killing blows whenever possible. The Urk-Hi fled through the forest. With out a leader, they were nothing. 

"Where are we gonna find someone with good color coordination, now?" Asked one rather foul being as he rushed by.

Several hours later...

"Whe...Where are we?" asked a rather dazed Fëalhach. Damia groaned in reply. The girl sat up, looked around for a minute then lay back down.

"Well...This is a new development..." She added, dazedly. The elf started to move off her.

"DON'T!" She exclaimed, "The branch is almost broken through. If either of us move, even you light-foot, we BOTH die. Clear?" Damia held her breath as the branch creaked. The elf boy started to nod, and noticed he was moving.

"Clear." He added in a frightened tone.

Meanwhile...

Legolas stood, grieving silently under the tree in which his friend was so carelessly perched, he could almost hear his friends voice again. So faint was the should that he thought he imagined it, followed by the girl's voice. 

"DON'T!" It echoed around the trees for a minute. Then "BOTH..." Fëalhach responded inaudibly.

"FËALHACH?" Screamed the prince, positive he was going mad.

In the tree, Fëalhach looked to the girl for the go ahead to call in help. Damia didn't comprehend for a moment that Legolas was calling the second elf. When she realized what was going on, she nodded.

"WE'RE UP HERE, LEGOLAS!" Shouted Fëalhach, no longer 'the second elf'.

"UP WHERE? IN THE HALLS OF MANDOS?" Called back the frantic friend.

"NO, IN THE TREE, STUPID!" That was Damia. 

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN A TREE?" Legolas asked.

"TRYING NOT TO FALL DOWN!" Shouted Damia.

"Sensible answer." Fëalhach told the still nameless girl. "Now, what am I going to call you?" The girl stayed silent. "How about Celebnur? It means 'Silver Flame', like the lightning that carried us here." He babbled. 

"'Silver Flame'...Celebnur... Sounds perfect." Damia, in truth, just wanted to shut up the flow of words that poured out of the elf like a river. Down below, several elves prepared for a long


End file.
